Leopold sat in the spacious cell, leaning back on the purple sheets of the bed, his eyes gazing out on the stars scattered like gems in the black velvet sky that lay just outside the bars. His mind wandered as he whistled a dwarven smithing tune he remembered from the smiths at his childhood home. He had been here nearly three days awaiting the Inquisitor, and the toll it was taking on his mind was severe.
The Writ of Sin had come as a shock and Leopold was unsure how to handle the whole matter. He was certain, at first, that it could not be real. He had imagined it, or it had been some form of clerical error. He was a Knight after all; a Paladin of the Viridians. He had dedicated his life to Unionism and the Great Way, to carrying out the will of the Emperor and the Spirit. His entire life had been faithful, if not overly zealous, and he did not understand how he could suddenly be cast so far down.
He had written to the High Reverend, laying bare these doubts and uncertainties he was now plagued with, and asking for some explanation and opportunity for atonement. Upon meeting with the Reverend, he was surrounded with guards, and they had "escorted" him here; to the Black Tower.
Back then he had said he had nothing to fear from an Inquisitor, and that his faith was strong as the steel his family smelted from brittle iron, but now, after three days behind bars, gazing out at the gorgeous expanse of glittering stars, perfect in their brightness, Leopold was certain there was some critical flaw deep within him.
Despite the years of fighting, pitting his sword and his will against the enemies of Unionism, Leopold was sure now that he was somehow false and heretical and his entire way of life had somehow been wrong. He just had no idea how. This was what he contemplated now, as he sat and whistled and gazed out.
A knocking came at his door.
He turned to look, and saw the guard on duty unlocking his door and gesturing to him, holding out the belt knife he'd surrendered on the day he had entered the cell. He looked quizzically at the guard, unable to voice his question.
The guard said simply "You're free to go. Inquisitor says pay yer respects t'the Synod an' don't blaspheme again." After a moment's hesitation, the guard would continue, "You won't have heard the news, but the Emperor's stepped down, and the Noble Assembly's in charge now. The Imperial Spirit... well, I don't rightly know what happened, but its spread out amongst all the faithful now, I guess... it was a sight to behold in the Cathedral though."
Leopold stood and put his coat back on, taking the dagger and strapping it to his belt silently, nodding and mumbling thanks to the guardsman as he numbly walked out of the tower, unsure how to process this new information.
His entire world had turned upside down, and he feared he was not the right person to handle it.
When he reached his town estate, he'd closet himself in his office and pen a letter to the High Reverend, begging for an opportunity to redeem himself, knowing he had somehow deeply failed the Union, but unsure how, or how to atone.
After a great deal of time and thought, he looked to his travel chest, already packed with most of his things after an argument four days ago. Shaking his head, he decided to go to bed, unsure how else to handle everything that had happened. The Knight was utterly lost, and needed a great deal of time to decide what to do with himself.
All he knew was that his faith was utterly renewed in the Union, and he was more glad of that than he had ever been of anything before.
The Writ of Sin had come as a shock and Leopold was unsure how to handle the whole matter. He was certain, at first, that it could not be real. He had imagined it, or it had been some form of clerical error. He was a Knight after all; a Paladin of the Viridians. He had dedicated his life to Unionism and the Great Way, to carrying out the will of the Emperor and the Spirit. His entire life had been faithful, if not overly zealous, and he did not understand how he could suddenly be cast so far down.
He had written to the High Reverend, laying bare these doubts and uncertainties he was now plagued with, and asking for some explanation and opportunity for atonement. Upon meeting with the Reverend, he was surrounded with guards, and they had "escorted" him here; to the Black Tower.
Back then he had said he had nothing to fear from an Inquisitor, and that his faith was strong as the steel his family smelted from brittle iron, but now, after three days behind bars, gazing out at the gorgeous expanse of glittering stars, perfect in their brightness, Leopold was certain there was some critical flaw deep within him.
Despite the years of fighting, pitting his sword and his will against the enemies of Unionism, Leopold was sure now that he was somehow false and heretical and his entire way of life had somehow been wrong. He just had no idea how. This was what he contemplated now, as he sat and whistled and gazed out.
A knocking came at his door.
He turned to look, and saw the guard on duty unlocking his door and gesturing to him, holding out the belt knife he'd surrendered on the day he had entered the cell. He looked quizzically at the guard, unable to voice his question.
The guard said simply "You're free to go. Inquisitor says pay yer respects t'the Synod an' don't blaspheme again." After a moment's hesitation, the guard would continue, "You won't have heard the news, but the Emperor's stepped down, and the Noble Assembly's in charge now. The Imperial Spirit... well, I don't rightly know what happened, but its spread out amongst all the faithful now, I guess... it was a sight to behold in the Cathedral though."
Leopold stood and put his coat back on, taking the dagger and strapping it to his belt silently, nodding and mumbling thanks to the guardsman as he numbly walked out of the tower, unsure how to process this new information.
His entire world had turned upside down, and he feared he was not the right person to handle it.
When he reached his town estate, he'd closet himself in his office and pen a letter to the High Reverend, begging for an opportunity to redeem himself, knowing he had somehow deeply failed the Union, but unsure how, or how to atone.
After a great deal of time and thought, he looked to his travel chest, already packed with most of his things after an argument four days ago. Shaking his head, he decided to go to bed, unsure how else to handle everything that had happened. The Knight was utterly lost, and needed a great deal of time to decide what to do with himself.
All he knew was that his faith was utterly renewed in the Union, and he was more glad of that than he had ever been of anything before.
Last edited:
